Timeless
by words-are-lies
Summary: Whouffle one-shot. It's hard losing someone. The Doctor has receded to his shell and guards the TARDIS with his life. Something unexpected happens that leads to something he already knew he was going to do. Rated T just to be safe.


**(A/N: So I rewatched Journey to the Centre of the TARDIS and The Time of the Doctor and was hit with a bunch of Whouffle feels. So this kinda popped out. There is an ongoing theme here that Clara's grandmother talked about. See if you can find it. I had to go through this a few times to make it right, but it was well worth it. Fair warning, there are some cliché bits…but hey, what do you expect from an angst/romance, haha. Read on!)**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE CHARACTERS OR DOCTOR WHO (obviously), it all belongs to the BBC.**

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The Doctor looked up from his book titled, _Quantum Physics for Dummies_, to occasionally glance at the TARDIS. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair that was propped against the side of his time machine and nodded in acknowledgment as the TARDIS let out a low hum.

He had been like this for longer than he had previously intended. He was sitting outside the TARDIS in a chair with his legs crossed and back hunched over so that his ancient eyes could get a clearer look at the fine words printed on the book's pages. He looked ridiculous while at it: a man dressed up like someone from the Victorian Era sitting in a white plastic lawn chair next to a police box. He occasionally tore his concentration away from his book to smile sadly at people who gave him a look of pity.

Without warning, the TARDIS trilled obnoxiously loudly and wouldn't seem to stop. The Doctor turned around in the chair to tap on the wood to see if it would have any effect on the machine. Seeing that the TARDIS wouldn't stop any time soon, he ignored the sound and turned back around to face the street and continued reading his book.

After what seemed like hours, the Doctor slammed his book shut as he stood up, threatening to go inside and shut down the machine himself if it wouldn't stop trilling.

Glaring at the TARDIS, the Doctor took a step forward and pointed a finger at it. "We both know well enough that I'm not going to go back in there." He stepped back from where he was standing to see if the TARDIS would give a signal that it had acknowledged him. The machine gave no indication apart from the same raucous that it was causing that it had answered. He kicked the side of the box and repeated menacingly, "I made a vow to _myself _that I would never go back in there ever again, no matter how tempted I become!"

Still, the police box didn't seem to want to stop, so the Doctor kicked it once again for good measure. About to grudgingly sit back into his chair, he paused in his tracks when time seemed to come to a stop. His senses suddenly became impaired except for hearing. Then, he heard that noise. Those unoiled hinges that he never bothered to replace or even think of as being flawed, slowly creaked until it couldn't anymore. The Doctor twisted back around and unknowingly stepped through the open doors, as if they were beckoning him to explore the endless corridors and deepest reaches within the bowels of the machine. It was the same magnetic attraction that he had felt the first time he opened the doors to his borrowed TARDIS on Gallifrey.

The TARDIS was usually always active and brightly blinking with lights every time the Doctor and Clara would run in from saving another planet as if it were a run-of-the-mill job. This time however, due to the Doctor's seldom use of the machine, it had decided to keep the lights off so that whenever someone boarded the TARDIS, they would feel the same awe that a newcomer felt when it powered on the lights for the first time, showing the magnificent wonders that awaited him or her. As the Doctor entered the TARDIS, it burst to life. Familiar noises ranging from the ambient _ding _from the lights perched on the sides, to the occasional clang from the cloister bell could be heard everywhere on the ship.

The console room was exactly the same as it was when he abandoned it.

The Doctor moved to the railings and gripped onto it so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He was thrown off by the familiarity of the place, yet the strangeness of it. Not intentionally doing so, he had grabbed one of Clara's jackets that she had carelessly thrown aside when they came back from visiting the rainy planet of Roua. He looked down at the jacket then held it into the air, examining it, then angrily threw it aside. It still smelled like her. Down to the poignant perfume that she wore. Hell, the whole console room still smelled wonderfully like her.

The TARDIS was set to clear out the old air every day, but seemed to have decided not to this time. He wasn't sure if this was intentional or not. Probably a broken filter that he would have to look into later.

The Doctor, still holding onto the rails, noticed that the TARDIS's mechanical shrilling had stopped, as if it had only caused a raucous so that he would come back to share memories of his previous companion with it. He let out an angry sigh and released the railing from his grip to look around.

It was as if Clara were still there. She had thrown a random assortment of clothing accessories strewn about various surfaces, along with knick knacks that she had found from the planets they had visited. The Doctor moved towards the console at a sluggishly slow pace and placed his hand on it. He desperately wished a part of her was still here, so when he felt something cold underneath his palms, he grabbed onto it desperately with his fingers and held it up to the light.

It was a silver ring. Probably one that Clara had unintentionally left behind. It signaled that she owned a part of the TARDIS, and in doing so, a part of the Doctor. He rolled it around on his palm and weaved it through his fingers before finally holding it to his hearts, then gently settled it onto the console. He froze in spot, hand still hovering above the small ring, then finally unfroze, grabbed the object, and roughly shoved it into his pocket.

He smiled sadly when he looked back up at the TARDIS console's various controls. He could imagine Clara curiously brushing the buttons with her fingers, and pretending to pull a lever that would probably kill the engines. She would move around the console, trying to prance around it like the Doctor did, hair whipping around animatedly, curiosity shining in her bright eyes that were always full of wonder.

The Doctor turned away from the console, trying to forget the memory, but realized that anywhere that he looked on the TARDIS, she would always show up there, one way or another. He had once told her that she could make this place her home, so she did. Instead of the stark and utilitarian desktop that he had chosen during the Pond's absence, Clara had added little things here and there as she traveled alongside her Doctor. He had actually began to feel a little more and more at home as she made plans to add things that she felt would 'cozy the place up' so he wouldn't be completely lonely when she wasn't present.

"_But Clara, that'll just make everything seem more jumbled," The Doctor had whined, roughly placing the books onto the floor._

"_Doctor, this will keep you busy with something. Wouldn't want you taking the anger of being away from me out on an innocent alien, now would we?" Clara assured, shooting him a flirtatious look that caused him to blush and turn away._

"_I- shut up!" he defended, shaking his head, as he paced back and forth on the steel floor. "These books aren't going to do any good here. We should put them in the library."_

_She glanced at him from the pile of English literature books that were surrounding her and placed _Hamlet _onto a neat little pile to say, "Nah. The console room could do with having a little extra touch of personalization to it, don't you think?"_

He had let her add a bookshelf along with a myriad of other little touches that she thought of.

Slowly stepping up to the second floor and next to the bookshelves, the Doctor pulled _Hamlet _from the shelf and ran a finger across the spine. It was one of Clara's favorite books. They always had conversations about Shakespeare that would last forever, to the point where Clara would give him a tap on his shoulder to signal that he was rambling.

Placing the book back onto the shelf, the Doctor shut his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. He missed her dearly. He could remember her giggles when he said something absolutely ridiculous and her hair flips when she wanted to say a dramatic one-liner. Or the way she would laugh in delight when she flustered him and her triumphant look when she managed to bake a soufflé without burning it. He could be reminded of all that by simply thinking of her name. It was plain enough to say that she had left a dramatic impact on his life. She began as a cautious mystery –an enigma wrapped in a skirt that was a _little _bit _too _tight- but when revealed that she had risked her life to save his, all doubt that he held was wiped straight away from his head. They became dear friends that would die for each other time and time again. He would visit her every Wednesday, bouncing out of the TARDIS and enthusiastically knocking onto the door of her flat to tell her of a new world where money grew on trees. She would respond skeptically saying that he was just teasing her.

They were the dynamic duo that would last forever and were endless. He had even foolishly promised her that they would travel together to the end of time and back again.

The Doctor shot his eyes open and angrily kicked the console then yelled, "Just bring her back!" Receiving no answer aside from an annoyed hum from the TARDIS, he broke down into tears and held his hands to his face, trying to cover the pain that he was burdened with. He knew that she would leave. They all did in the end. Whether it was death, abandonment, or even if they just wanted to leave the TARDIS and the Doctor behind. They all left and he would be alone once again.

Then, he did what he always did when a companion left.

He wiped his face and regained his composure then flicked the switches on the console, pulling him into the time vortex. Then with a press of a button, the machine flew out of the vortex and materialized onto the lawn of the flat that Clara lived in.

He pulled the lapels of his jacket, straightened his bowtie, and stood up straight, smiling sadly at his reflection on the display. Nervously exhaling, he pulled the doors open and quickly crossed the lawn and up the stairs. When he landed on her floor, he made way to her door and knocked eleven times.

There was shuffling behind the door and the sound of a lock unclicking before it swung open. "Doctor? It's Tuesday," Clara said tiredly, eyeing the Doctor warily.

"Make an exception," he replied with a genuine but sad smile. She looked as if she just got out of bed with her hair still ruffled in a mess and a blanket slung lazily over her shoulders.

She lazily rolled her eyes, trying to hide their underlying mischief and said, "Always arriving off the mark, chinboy. Just give me a second, I'll be back in a 'mo."

And with that, she closed the door and went to her room to get changed for their next trip.

The Doctor sighed and hunched his shoulders over and wondered why he did this. It would hurt too much to the point where it would be unbearable once he took her back. He shook the thought off and tried not to think of it.

Clara arrived back at the door with her cute nose pointed up and wearing a skirt that she commented would be incomplete without pockets.

"What's wrong?" She asked him confusedly, eyebrows furrowing when he placed his hand on her cheek and tenderly rubbed it with his thumb, relishing her soft skin underneath his palm. He did all of this with an expression that clearly showed that he was longing her presence.

He wanted to cherish every moment that they were going to share. Remember everything that he could about her: her voice, her laughter, her touch, her personality, and everything else that he couldn't ever bear to forget. He wanted them to last forever.

But he knew nothing was endless, not even him.

So without another word, he dropped his hand from her face and took her delicate ones in his then led her back to the TARDIS.

For one last adventure through space and time.

Together.

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**(A/N: Phew, well that was a bit unexpected. I never thought I would ever write anything angsty for this fandom. I usually like writing lighthearted humor. Very sorry if this story was confusing, I tried to make it as clear as possible, but my head is in a million places right now. Oh, and a little headcanon I have is whenever a companion leaves the Doctor, he goes back in time to when they are still living and travels with them one last time before leaving forever. Kinda like what Ten did in the End of Time pt.2 with Rose, except he travels a bit further in their timeline to where they know who he is. Anyway, thanks so much for reading, and review if you want to!)**


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